A New Beginning
by angel1983
Summary: "'ave you thought about becoming a Musketeer?" My take on how D'Artagnan joins the trio. Takes place at the end of the first episode "Friends and Enemies"
1. Chapter 1

He had no idea why he was still here in this tavern facing the man he had sworn to kill not even three days ago. The man he had thought responsible for his father's death. That the other man had been proven innocent of the crime mere minutes before his execution had been nothing short of a miracle. A miracle he knew he had absolutely no part in. In fact he had almost been the cause of a catastrophe, his lack of self control and rage resulting in the death of his father's murderer. D'Artagnan of Lupiac in Gascony in dealing the killing blow to Gaudet of the Red Guard had certainly achieved his goal of avenging his father's death, however in doing so he had – at that time at least – thought he had condemned an innocent man to the noose.

Thinking back to how close it had all been earlier made his entire being tremble and he took a deep breath and tried to hide the tremors going through him, considering himself lucky that no one had witnessed his moment of weakness. Or hadn't they?

D'Artagnan's head snapped up as he felt someone's gaze on him. Athos. He felt a blush color his cheeks as he met the eyes of the older soldier. Despite the amount of wine Athos had consumed his eyes were still fairly clear and D'Artagnan felt certain the fabled Musketeer had noticed his shudders. However, just like at the gallows, the other man said nothing instead just favoring him with a short nod before turning inwards towards whatever thoughts were tormenting him.

Porthos chose that moment to return with the wine he had wandered off to buy and once more the two men drank in companiable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

D'Artagnan's mind went back to his original question. 'Why was he still here?', he wondered.

After getting rid of the chains around Athos' wrist the three Musketeers had strode out of the prison – certainly not running – but not quite at a normal pace either as if feeling the necessity to put some distance between themselves and the disaster that had almost taken place a few moments ago. Not knowing what else to do D'Artagnan had followed them out, albeit at a much slower pace, his injured body letting him know in no uncertain terms that it did not appreciate all the running and fighting he had been doing ever since that fateful night at the inn.

Head bowed, trying to fight off the physical and mental exhaustion that seemed to have taken up permanent residence inside him the young man had not noticed the presence of Aramis until the latter had placed a soft hand on his arm and asked him if he was all right. Berating himself for not paying attention to his surroundings, D'Artagnan had answered the question with a soft "I'm fine", unwilling to impose any further on the other men. Now that they had their comrade in arms back D'Artagnan wasn't sure his continued presence would be appreciated – especially by Athos – and had been surprised when not only had Aramis refused to believe him but had actually dragged him back to the infirmary at the garrison to have his injuries tended to.

After that the Musketeer had made sure he had had something to eat before inviting him for a few drinks at the tavern. D'Artagnan had found himself accepting and had been rewarded with a smile. And here he was still, even after the departure on the man who had invited him in the first place keeping Porthos company. His mind swirled with questions not the least of which was 'Why was he still here? Why hadn't the three older men simply not abandoned him? Why had they dragged him out to what had to be for them an extremely private and relived celebration? Why had they not blamed him for Athos being almost executed?'

D'Artagnan was well aware that he had nothing to do with the execution itself. That he had found out from Porthos' angry mutterings was the work of the cardinal. However the death of Gaudet at his hands still haunted him. Even though it was true that he hadn't actually meant to kill the Captain of the Red Guard; even though he had actually stilled his sword on Aramis' command and his actions were from self-defense. Yet he had in killing that man lost any chance of gaining a confession and clearing Athos' name. If only he had actually heard Aramis out when the other man had instructed him to wait for his command instead of just rushing in. Instead his actions had put all of them – including Constance - in danger and had almost cost all of them their lives. If Porthos hadn't found the uniforms and if Dujon hadn't confessed…

"If's don' 'elp", a rough voice commented and D'Artagnan's head snapped up again to find an amused looking Porthos smirking at him.

"What?" he had asked completely confused and slightly ashamed at once again being caught off-guard.

"You kept mutterin' if and somethin' after it. If's don' 'elp", he repeated

Unable to think of an appropriate response D'Artagnan just shrugged his shoulder and took a sip of the wine Porthos had poured out for him. When he turned his gaze back up he found the bigger man studying him with an intense look of concentration as if trying to discern the thoughts running through the Gascon's mind. However before the youngster could ask what it was the other man was looking for Porthos posed a question of his own. "What will you do now?"

Once again all D'Artagnan could come up with was a very unintelligent "What?"

Blushing he ducked his head, but before he could ask the Musketeer to elaborate the other man did so on his own.

"What will you do now? Do you want to go back to Gascony o' stay 'ere in Paris?"

At this D'Artagnan swallowed giving Porthos the distinct impression that the boy hadn't thought that far ahead. His quiet "I don't know" confirmed the older man's suspicions.

Porthos took a deep breath before carrying on knowing that the next question might be not so sensitive especially considering the fact that the boy had just lost his father and hadn't as far as he knew not even taken the time to mourn him properly. However he wanted to know what exactly the Gascon's plans had been before stating what was on his mind.

"What were you and your father on your way to Paris for?" he asked him lightly, but wasn't entirely surprised when tears pooled D'Artagnan's eyes and he turned his head away.

"I…. We were…", began the youngster only to find to his shame that he was unable to continue. Turning his head away he discretely wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

Feeling a little ashamed himself for having caused the lad unnecessary pain Porthos simply cleared his throat and chose to change the subject. "You know I saw you fight Athos and I 'ave to admit you were pretty good with a sword. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

To his horror however tears pooled once again in the young man's eyes. This time though D'Artagnan managed to control his emotions enough to answer. "My father", he began only to clear his throat and try again. "My father taught me how".

A heavy silence descended upon the two men. Porthos berated himself for causing the lad further pain even though his intensions had been the opposite. D'Artagnan meanwhile was feeling embarrassed at not even being able to answer a simple question without choking up.

Shaking his head as if he were coming out of a trance Porthos went back to studying the youngster causing D'Artagnan to squirm in his seat. He had never been a patient man and was becoming curious as to what Porthos was trying to read in him.

"'ave you thought of being a Musketeer?" D'Artagnan's jaw dropped at Porthos' question. Whatever he had been expecting the bigger man to ask, this had certainly not been it.

"What?" was again the only word he could manage causing Porthos to let out a booming laugh. The older man seemed content to wait him out though and did not say anything well aware that he had sprung the question suddenly on the young man, giving him time to sort his thoughts.

A minute of patient waiting and D'Artagnan began with an "I…" before swalloing his words and posing a question of his own. "You think I can become a Musketeer?" Even as he finished the question he was well aware that he had been unable to keep the note of disbelief or hope out of his voice.

Well aware that there were many number of flippant remarks he could have made to this question, Porthos nevertheless chose to remain serious. "Yes I believe so", he answered with conviction. "With the right trainin' you can be a fine Musketeer one day".

Now it was D'Artagnan who studied the older man intensely however finding nothing but honesty in the other man's eyes he muttered a quiet "Thank you". His own eyes however reflected the gratitude he felt.

"Don't mention it lad", Porthos responded with an amused smirk before adding "You do remember the part where I mentioned trainin' right. Lots an' lots of trainin", he continued keeping his tone light.

Not even the threat of training however could dampen D'Artagnan's enthusiasm or the first genuine smile that broke out on his face as he bobbed his head up and down. Porthos took that as a 'yes' and let out another laugh. "Then be at the garrison by eight in the mornin' tomorrow".

"Eight?"

"Yeah I imagine you'd be used to gettin' up early what with bein' a farm boy an' all".

That produced another genuine smile and Porthos swore the lad looked even younger than his eighteen years. Choosing to once again take his cue from the lad's expression instead of waiting for a verbal response, Porthos drained his glass and stood up. Right on cue it seemed to D'Artagnan as he heard the thump of Athos' head on the wooden table as the other man lost his battle with consciousness. "Will he be all right?" he asked the bigger man.

Porthos didn't answer straightaway instead taking a moment to turn around and study the oldest Musketeer. Then turning back to the youngster and with the same convicion his voice had held when he had told the lad that he could become a Musketeer he answered a simple "Yes". D'Artagnan was able to even in that one word learn the amount of love and respect Porthos had for Athos. His eyes went back to the man slumped on the table.

A man of honor he would come to know in the next few days. A man who would gladly and without asking anything in return give anything that he could to ensure the safety of his comrades. A natural leader. Even if all he could see right now was a broken man.

His eyes then went back to the older man who seemed to be waiting patiently for whatever he wanted to say. D'Artagnan took a deep breath before standing up and holding out his hand to Porthos who shook it. "Thank you", he said sincerely then added "For everything", receiving another amused smirk in return.

Leting go of Porthos' hand and walking away D'Artagnan paused near Athos' table before adding "I'll see you at eight". Then walking past the other patrons he stepped into the cool night air ready to start a new life.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. – The original plan was for this story to be a oneshot however my muse demanded that I make a chapter out of Athos' reaction to D'Artagnan joining the Musketeers. Something about the way he tells Treville he is a Gascon farm boy, promising but raw to me at least conveys a certain amount of reservation mixed with admiration for his talents. So I thought I'd give a shot at writing Athos' reactions. And I know I have very little Aramis in this and that this is slightly OOC for him, but I find it very difficult to write him even if he is my favorite character out of the lot.**

 **Oh and thank you so much to all my reviewers. Sarah and Debbie (guests) - Thank you so much for your kind words and I hope you enjoy part two.**

"You did what?" the quiet tone of voice did nothing to dispel the fury behind the words. The speaker was angry and not at all opposed to displaying it.

"I told 'im to be 'ere at eight", was the equally quiet reply; calm composure evident in the tone.

"I'm sure he meant well", rejoined a third voice causing the other two speakers to glare at him in unison. "Or not. Perhaps I should stay out of this", the voice trailed off its tone now slightly panicked.

"Why in God's name would you ask him to be here?" Athos continued the original discussion turning back towards Porthos and ignoring Aramis entirely for the moment, which suited the other man just fine. Neither Athos' tone of voice nor his choice of words carried the courteousness he seemed to normally display. "What prompted you to believe he could become a Musketeer?"

"The fact that he held his own against you", Aramis tried to intervene ignoring his own good sense to stay out of the conversation. However another glare this one more heated that the last promptly put an end to his efforts to lighten the mood.

Porthos only let out an amused chuckle at his friends' actions not in the least bit intimidated by Athos' tone. But then again he seemed to be one of the few people truly unafraid of the older Musketeer when he was angry. "Athos just hear me out all right", he told the other man, his voice turning serious all traces of levity gone. "Yeah D'Artagnan is young and impulsive. I'll accept that". However he was interrupted by a still fuming Athos, "He is reckless. That is what he is", the other Musketeer countered not willing to give any quarter. Then muttering "I need a drink", the older man got up and stalked away from them.

From his position at their usual table in the courtyard Aramis sighed as he observed the scene in front of him. That conversation had gone about as well as he had expected. It wasn't that he was unhappy with Porthos. He knew his friend meant well and he knew Athos was aware of it too. However he was also not surprised at the other man's reactions and had actually expected it when Porthos had dragged them all out of bed at the crack of dawn and explained to them what they'd be doing that day if the captain did not assign them a mission. His initial reaction whilst not as violent as Athos'; had been far from pleasant. But that had more to do with the hour than the news itself. Aramis only wished it was the same with Athos, however judging from his friend's reactions he was not hopeful.

Athos truly was not a happy man. After being drunk out of his mind the previous evening he had no recollection of how he had ended up in his own bed; which could only mean that Porthos had carried him home – again. That in itself had been enough to dampen his mood. It wasn't that he did not appreciate his friends' efforts to care enough to make sure he headed home after a rough night of drinking. He was an honest enough man to acknowledge that without Aramis and Porthos he would have died a sad and lonely death a long time ago. And while a part of him still felt that it was exactly what he deserved for his actions, the rest of him accepted that he owed his very existence and whatever happiness he had in his life to the two people sitting at the table with him.

That however did not mean that he had to be content with being dragged out of bed at this God-forsaken hour with possibly one of the worst hangovers he had experienced in a while and being told that he had a new recruit to train. A new recruit the captain had yet to approve.

'The captain', thought Athos. 'This was his way out of this mess'. Sighing he blamed his slow reactions on the early hour rather than the amount of wine he had so recklessly consumed the previous night.

"You know Treville would not just approve of us training D'Artagnan", he stated confidently as he strode back towards them. However if he thought he had won that easily he was to be disappointed. Porthos who had unlike Athos considered the captain's reaction to their news had a perfect comeback. "Course he won't", he conceded, before adding "'e will though if you ask him before the lad gets here. 'e won't say no if you agree to this".

For a moment Athos could only gape at his friend's cheekiness. Then he gave up with a sigh and sat back down. His brain had not woken up sufficiently for him to have a comeback to that one. Instead for once giving into his exhaustion and well aware that the courtyard was empty except for the other two he let his head fall onto the table.

Porthos observed Athos' reaction to his news and saw the displeasure his friend radiated. For the life of him he could not understand why Athos reacted the way he did. True D'Artagnan had accused the older man of a crime he did not commit, however he had also been instrumental in clearing the Musketeer's name. Porthos knew Athos was well aware of this and even if he had not been he was too much of an honorable man to let an honest mistake affect his judgment of someone. After all he had been set up and set up well.

More than anyone else the de-facto leader of their group should have been able to see the raw talent in the youngster. Whilst he knew that Aramis' assessment of D'Artagnan's fighting ability was a well and truly exaggerated one, the lad was no novice with a sword either. Porthos had seen the way the boy had handled himself against Gaudet and the Red Guard. And Athos knew this as well having been told the tale of how they had managed to free him at the last minute. Athos however seemed content to ignore it all and Porthos wondered what it was the older Musketeer held against the youngster from Gascony.

"Athos my friend", he began again a bit more cautious this time. "I have lost count of the numbe' of times you and Aramis have joked about my inability to judge a man's character", he continued a bit more confident at not being interrupted, "But you and I both know that I can spot a man's fighting ability just fine. Believe me when I say that D'Artagnan's knows his way around a sword. True you coulda' killed 'im at least twice in your duel", he forged on ignoring the other man's childish "More than twice". "But it's not just the fact that he can fight Athos. The lad can think quickly on his feet as well. I know I already told you this but without his idea to use that Bonacieux woman we'd 'ave never gotten past Gaudet's sentries. Yeah he's young", and with a grimace "a bit reckless", he added earning himself a small chuckle from his companions, "but I believe he'll learn with experience".

When his little speech however failed to garner any reaction from the other man Porthos felt his shoulders slump. Head bowed his tone defeated, "All righ' then. I'll tell the lad the captain won't allow it".

"I thought you said the captain would allow it if I were to speak to him". Athos' voice had regained its normal equanimity however Porthos' head still snapped up as if his friend had shouted those words.

Athos gave Porthos a very small but genuine smile. True it was nothing more than a slight upturn of his lips, however every time he was on the receiving end of one of those gestures the big man's heart melted. He had no idea, and neither did Aramis as to the cause of the other man's misery but being a compassionate soul he had been unhappy to watch his friend suffer in silence.

Shaking himself from his rather melancholic thoughts, Porthos gave his friend a piercing stare. Well aware that his next question could be quite stupid and possibly upset his friend enough to change his mind, Porthos nevertheless asked him a quiet "Why?" The thump of Aramis' head striking the table in frustration told him that the other man agreed with his assessment. "What changed your mind about D'Artagnan?" he elaborated when all he received was a raised eyebrow in response.

For a moment Athos thought about not answering the question. Some thoughts were best left alone. He knew that he could refuse to answer his friend's query and would actually be left alone however he was also aware that, that would be the easy way out. And whilst he definitely wasn't brave enough to admit his role in the death of his wife, lest the others abandon him in disgust, he also knew that he owed Porthos some sort of explanation for his earlier rudeness.

"In truth I was never opposed to training D'Artagnan because I believed him to be not gifted. From the way you described the events that unfolded, unless you have grossly exaggerated them", here he held up a hand in advance to stop Aramis' protests; "I believe D'Artagnan acted with bravery and honor. And whilst you are incorrect in claiming that his ability with a sword matches my own", ignoring Aramis' petulant "It was a joke", he continued no trace of superiority evident in his voice at his own skill, "he does have raw talent which can be honed".

"As to why I was initially not in approval with your plan to train him", here he hesitated unwilling to reveal what he perceived a weakness but forging on anyway, "Spending time in the gallows is not a pleasant experience. It brings to mind memories one would rather forget", his eyes became distant as he continued his voice quieter than before, "I simply wished to erase every memory of that experience and being reminded early in the day of those events ruined my mood and caused me to be a bit hasty with my judgment".

If he had expected disgust or revulsion at his reasons for his grumpiness he was quite pleasantly surprised to note that his friends' faces did not reveal any. Instead their eyes shone with compassion for the ordeal he had been through; something else he was not entirely comfortable with.

Not wanting to hear any words of comfort from the others and knowing he did not deserve them anyway, Athos continued, "Porthos you did judge right when you said that D'Artagnan, with the right training would make a fine Musketeer one day". Unconsciously he echoed his friend's words to the young man from the previous evening and received a blinding smile in return. It was enough.


End file.
